


Don't Touch Me, Don't Leave Me

by angrycuddlefish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Coping, Grooming, Healing, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Hospitals, I didnt have the heart to turn any existing character into rapists so i made one up, M/M, Molestation, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Violence, but that's just me, i kind of have an outline, i'll update tags as I post, idk where this fic is going, its kinda graphic okay, relating to what's going on with the olympic doctor, so get ready for all that shit, the first two chapters are pretty terrible in my opinion, viktor is yuri's legal guardian, you guys can read for yourself idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrycuddlefish/pseuds/angrycuddlefish
Summary: Competing for the gold at the Grand Prix Final, Yuri is determined to win. Something happens, though, that puts everything on hold.





	1. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I ended up changing this entire chapter and I'm going to do the same for the next, except maybe not delete the whole thing first... whoops. Anyway, this takes place at Skate America in Detroit, where Phichit, Viktor, Otabek, and Yuri are competing. Yuuri is there for his (not yet) husband.

"FUCK OFF!" 

 

The worst part about Yuri's outburst on the ice wasn't that it caught the attention of every skater in the rink, or that it echoed through the whole building, or that later Yakov gave him a serious tongue lashing about watching his language around the young kids. It wasn't even the look on Otabek's face-the hurt, confused expression that resembled a kicked puppy- it was that, not half a beat later, in a quiet, gentle voice, Otabek said, "you don't have to pretend to be okay."

And god, Yuri was nowhere close to okay. 

 

*   *   *   *   Two Weeks Earlier   *   *   *   *

 

Rain pounded on the concrete alongside Yuri's feet as he ran. He had begun his run in in a good mood,  energized and ready for competition, the sun shining and the sky clear. Brisbane weather, however, decided that was just too good for Yuri and put a damper on his mood. Literally. 

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he continued jogging down the empty street, eager to get out of he rain and into the warm, dry hotel. He couldn't risk getting sick, not right now, not the day before the Grand Prix Final. He took gold in the Four Continents in Gangneung, Worlds in Helsinki, and the European Championship in Moscow. He was now set to win the Grand Prix Final, and he would he damned if he let a stupid cold keep him from the gold. If he lost the Finals, he would spend the rest of his life beating himself up over it. He would be damned if he let the gold slip through his fingers. 

Just the thought if losing made him angrier and angrier. The Russian Punk hadn't come call this way just to lose at the last minute, especially not to his competition this year. Viktor came back to compete, and also coached Yuuri Katsuki until the pig's broke his ankle in practice one day. He was out for the rest of the season. Viktor, of course, wanted to quit along side him, but Yuri grabbed him by one ear, and Katsudon grabbed him by the other, and together they yelled some sense into him. It was one of he few times he and the Japanese Yuuri had gotten along.

Viktor wasn't performing his best because of his boyfriend's injury, but there were other competitors who put up a pretty tough fight. Phichit Chulanont was one of them. Phichit really stepped up his game since last season and placed second to Yuri at Skate America. With new flips and quads under his belt, he skated an impressive free program that even Yuri admitted would be difficult for him. His performance scores had always been phenomenal, but his technical score improved to a level no one expected from the Thai skater. 

Chris Giacometti was also a tough competitor. His technical scores were nearly flawless for both of his programs, but they lacked the complected quads and flips of his previous programs. His component scores, however, were very high. He was charming and charismatic both on and off the ice, which made him a crowd favorite. Although Chris could be irritating at times, Yuri respected him as an opponent. The one guy he couldn't stand was that stupid Canadian, Jean-Jacques Leroy. 

JJ had been a thorn in his side ever since Yuri faced him last year and lost the gold to him. The man had somehow gotten ahold of his number and used it to send him photos of himself; JJ with a group of fans; JJ with his numerous gold metals (Yuri had more); JJ at a rink; JJ with his hideous merchandise; and one (that Yuri didn't actually mind but would never admit it) was a selfie of JJ grinning in front of a tiger enclosure at a zoo. Yuri didn't know what his motive was, but if it was some kind of intimidation method, it wasn't working. He already knew how skilled of a skater JJ was, and photos and selfies wasn't going to scare him.

JJ was going to be hard to beat at the finals, with his technically difficult programs and dazzling performances. His programs were captivating. That is, if he didn't freeze up and choke like he did at last years Final. Yuri had to make sure he was in top condition to compete against him.

Yuri had gotten so lost in thought that he didn't realize he had run way too far. He passed the hotel a while ago and was now close to the rink where he would be competing. Panting, he slowed to a stop, leaning down to catch his breath. His phone was dead, so calling for someone to pick him up was out of the question. Perhaps he could take shelter in the rink until the rain stopped.

As he began walking toward the large building, a sleek black car pulled up next to him. The window rolled down and the driver, a man, smiled at him.

"Need a ride?" 

It was Antonio Costello, one of Yuri's sponsors. He was nice enough, and gave Yuri and his family a lot of money to support his career, so Yuri forced himself to be nice back. Right now, however, he was soaked to the bone, irritated, and just wanted a very long nap. 

"I'm fine," he said, gritting his teeth. Although Antonio was a nice guy, Yuri got a weird feeling whenever he was around, and didn't like being in the same room for very long, much less in a car. Yuri stared walking again, and Antonio cruised along next to him.

"Come on, Plisetski, you're wet and cold, I can tell. You'll get sick if you stay out here."

Yuri stared at him for a minute and considered. He was very cold and just wanted to go back to the hotel. 

"Okay," he grumbled, and Antonio grinned. 

"Hop in."

Yuri climbed in the passenger seat and was hit by the warm air of the interior. Antonio reached back and grabbed a towel from the back seat and handed it to Yuri. 

"Here, dry off."

"Thanks."

Yuri found that Antonio was a very talkative man. He asked Yuri about his family and coach, as if he wasn't talking to Yakov every few weeks. He chattered about the sponsorship, but that's not what Yuri was concerned with. What he was worried about was the hand that had made its way to his knee. He swallowed, his skin tingling from where the older man's hand made contact with his leg, and not in a good way. 

"And maybe in a few weeks we could do a photoshoot with you modeling the gear," Antonio said. Yuri hardly registered that the car had stopped.

"Where are we?" He asked, praying his voice held none of the nervousness he felt. 

Antonio turned in his seat to face Yuri fully, ignoring Yuri's question. "Perhaps you could let your hair down..." He carded his hands through Yuri's hair, catching the hair tie and pulling it out of the ponytail. Chills like needles ran up Yuri's spine as the stark realization of Antonio's intentions hit him.

"You have such a beautiful face, it's a shame to keep it hidden..." 

 _Oh god, I'm so stupid._ "What the hell are you doing?" Yuri demanded, shrinking away.

"Oh Yuri, I think you know what I'm doing," Antonio replied, smirking at the cowering teen. 

Yuri's blue eyes met Antonio's grey ones for a few tense seconds. As quick as he could, he reached for the door handle and yanked on it, but the door didn't budge. Antonio yanked him back by his hair, pinning his head to the center console. He shrieked, arms flailing and kicking wildly against the dash as Antonio pulled him by the hair to the backseat. He kicked and shoved at the larger man, but he was much stronger than the skinny teen. Antonio climbed awkwardly over the center console into the backseat, landing on Yuri with his knee in his stomach. Yuri was splayed out in the backseat, struggling against the Italian's grip. Antonio snapped Yuri's head up to look at him.

"Come on, Yuri, be a good boy, huh? Be a good boy for me..." He froze at the sound of Antonio undoing his zipper, tears pricking the pack of his eyes.

_This can't be happening, oh god, this can't be happening._

"Get off me... please s-stop..." Yuri hated the sound of his weak voice. This wasn't like him at all. He sounded pathetic. 

Antonio laughed. "Oh come on, Yuri. Don't be like that now. Be a good boy." 

Yuri kept struggling shoving at his chest and trying to kick him away. If only he could get his feet on his chest, he could get him off. His legs were the strongest part of him, he could get away if he just...

A second later, his hand came down on Yuri's face. "You need my sponsorship if you want to keep skating competitively, Yuri. Cooperate." Antonio hissed. Yuri stilled, harsh realization setting in. He had spent most of his life fighting-fighting in competition, fighting in practice, fighting his own body- but if he wanted to get out of this, he couldn't fight it. 

Resignation and disgust seeped into his body as Antonio kissed and sucked at his neck, his body going limp. He shoved Yuri down and yanked his pants and underwear down his legs, still whispering in his ear. Tears streamed down the sides of his face, pooling in his ears as Antonio raped him. He could feel himself tearing, Antonio's movements becoming slicker with Yuri's blood. It  hurt so _much_ and he wanted it to stop.

At some point, Antonio had flipped him over to lay on his stomach, face pressed into the fake leather of the back seat. His sobs were muted and he gripped the seat until his knuckles turned white, praying for it to end. Tears and snot mixed together as his face was shoved into the leather seat.

He didn't know how long it had been, but Antonio finished and zipped his pants.

"What the hell you waiting for? Get dressed," Antonio ordered, cocking an eyebrow at the boy. Shakily, Yuri pushed himself up and tugged his pants back up. 

"Let's just keep this between us, okay, sweetheart?" Antonio said, gripping Yuri's chin and forcing eye contact. "Answer me."

Yuri nodded as best he could, and Antonio reached past him and opened the backseat door. Yuri clambered out, hitting the pavement on his shoulder and side. The door slammed shut behind him and the car sped off a few seconds later. 

Yuri rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky. It was dark by now and the rain stopped. The stars were hidden by clouds and street lamps. The chill wind bit at his exposed skin, but that mild sting was nothing compared to the pain in his backside and hips. He knew he should get up, call for help, find Yakov, or Lilia, or someone... 

 _But I'm so tired._ Salty tears rolled down his face again as he lay, splayed out half on the sidewalk, half in the empty street.  _Maybe in a few minutes... Just... Let me rest a minute..._


	2. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is short, but I wanted to get it out. The next will be longer, I promise.

"Oh, come on," Otabek mumbled, locking his phone after his call went straight to voicemail. Again, Yuri hadn't picked up his phone. They were supposed to meet at a cafe after Yuri's 'cool off jog,' as Otabek had nicknamed them, nearly two hours ago, but Yuri never showed. Otabek had called four times and texted him several more before calling Yuuri, who told him he hadn't seen the angry Russian boy since much earlier that day. 

"I'll ask Viktor and Yakov," Yuuri had promised. Otabek took to searching on his own, hoping that Yuri had just gotten lost and his phone was dead. 

Tightening his jacket around him, he had a nagging, sinking feeling in his stomach that something was very  _wrong_. He rounded a corner and took his phone out to call Yuri again when a glint in the street caught his eye. As he got closer, he saw that it was a phone. Picking it up, he recognized the phone case. It was Yuri's. The screen was nearly destroyed and the case was scuffed, but it was definitely Yuri's.

Immediately, he called Yuuri again. 

Before Yuuri could even speak when he picked up, Otabek cut him off. "I found his phone."

"Hel- you what?"

"Yuri's phone. I found it in the street. It's broken."

"Are you sure it's Yuri's?" 

Otabek rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."  _As if I would mistake Yuri's phone._

"Well, maybe he just dropped it on his walk," Yuuri suggested, trying to sound hopeful.

Otabek did his best to try not to snap at the Japanese skater, but failed. "Katsuki, Yura spends half his life on his phone, even when he's practicing. He would never 'just drop it.'"

He felt bad when Yuuri answered. "Oh... I'll speak with Viktor and Yakov. We'll find him, Otabek."

He sighed. "Thanks, Yuuri."

He told Yuuri where he was and continued down the empty street, hoping he would find Yuri. Anxiety settled in his gut, that sinking feeling manifesting into mild panic. 

 _No Otabek, not is not the time for one of your episodes._ He had to find Yura first. 

He just hoped he was okay. 

 

* * *

The sight was... awful, to say the least.

When Otabek first saw him, his heart stopped for a moment. Yuri, his Yura, lying bloody and unconscious on the pavement, splayed out awkwardly on the sidewalk and street. He ran toward him, skidding to a stop on his knees next to the boy. 

"Yura? Yura, wake up," Otabek called gently, lifting his head. Yuri's brow twitched, a small sound escaping his throat. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're okay now." Otabel gingerly pulled Yuri into his lap, cradling him in his arms. 

"Where... where is he?" Yuri asked, slowly regaining consciousness. 

"Where is who?"

"He... he told me not to-to tell," Yuri mumbled, fading out again. 

_Oh god, what happened to you?_

Shaking, Otabek called Katsuki again. He answered almost immediately.

"Katsuki, I found him, I found him but he's hurt and, о мой Бог, he's really hurt, I don't know what to do, he needs help." His words tumbled out in one breath. 

"Okay, okay Otabek. Viktor is going to call for help, can you tell me where you are?" Yuuri was a saint for being so calm when no one else knew what to do.

"No, no I have no idea, Блядь! I think, I don't know, the street is empty and I don't recognize anything!"

"Are there any street signs around?" 

Otabek whipped his head around and squinted through the dark. "Yeah, um, I think it says Faulker Street? Faulter? I don't know!"

He heard voices on Yuuri's end and suddenly another voice spoke.

"Otabek, this is Viktor. I know where you are. Yuuri is calling for help right now, they should be there shortly. I'm coming too."

"Okay, okay, hurry, please, he's hurt really bad!"

"Don't worry, Otabek, he'll be okay."

The line went dead and Otabek took a deep breath. He had to stay calm. Freaking out wouldn't help anyone, and he needed to focus on Yuri.

Otabek brushed hair from Yuri's bloody face, stroking his thumb over his cheek. "Yura?"

Yuri opened his eyes, blinking. "Otabek...?" 

"I'm right here, Yuratcha, help is coming," he said, forcing himself to smile in hopes that it might comfort Yuri.

Yuri looked back at him, confused. "Beka...?" 

"It's me, Yura, you're safe," Otabek whispered, petting his hair.

Yuri frowned, shifting as he slowly remembered what had happened. "Nnno, no, no, no no no!" He cried, pushing against Otabek's chest, sobs wracking his body.

"Shh, hey Yura, it's okay, you're safe, you're okay." Yuri curled up, clutching himself as Otabek pulled him close, rocking back and forth. "I've got you, you're okay."

"No! Stop it! Sto-op!" He sobbed, shaking violently. Otabek couldn't even imagine what happened to his friend to put him in this state. 

"Yuri, calm down, it's me! It's Otabek! I won't hurt you, I promise."

Yuri's sobs shook his entire body, and Otabel held him close. The sound of sirens grew louder, and soon the street was filled with flashing lights. 


	3. ANOTHER UPDATE

OKAY so I rewrote chapter 1, you guys should go read that. I promise promise promise that I will get another chapter out/edit chapter 2 soon. It probably won't be until next month, as I have several papers due at the end of May, but I will absolutely try. Thanks for being so patient, and I'm sorry it's taking so long!! I know how much getting an update notification and then realizing it's just one of these things sucks, so I'll try to stop doing that and just post chapters. Anyway, I hope you're all doing well. I'm grateful for your support! Kudos and comments really do motivate me to write more, so keep doing that. Also, any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated! Any mistakes I made, anything you want to see happen in the story, what direction you want it to go in, anything! Just leave a comment. 

Thanks so much!!


	4. Manifestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter? After all this time?? Holy shit???  
> Yes folks, I'm back. In case any of you are interested, I'm currently in college studying animation, which is taking up most of my time. I didn't forget this story, though!  
> I've decided that since I'm an artist and not a writer, I'm not going to agonize over posting good writing for this (i.e., changing point of views and jumping around timelines). This is just for fun and now that I've stopped trying to make it perfect, I'll probably be able to upload more often! It also means there's probably going to be some stupid tropes and stuff as well, but lets face it, you probably didn't click on this fic for quality content. If you want actual quality work, go check out my instagram @yonnie.boy, where you can find my art. Anyway, here's chapter 4. It's pretty short but like I said, I'm going to stop beating myself up over it. This is just for fun, after all.

Viktor, for all his faults, had always been an empathetic man. He could be blunt and callus at times, but he felt deeply and thought himself to be quite understanding to others plights. Such as he was, having been in the public eye since childhood taught him to keep a calm, unmoved demeanor in most situations, despite his naturally emotive state. Being unable to express his true feelings, he found, made him isolate himself from others in fear of letting someone get close to him. Until meeting Yuuri, Viktor felt he was the only one in the world who understood what being truly alone was like. He was infatuated with Yuuri Katsuki the second he lay eyes on him, and the feeling seemed to be reciprocated. Several months and many cases of severe lack of communication later, he found a ring on his finger and the young man in his bed nearly every night. It seemed that everything in his life was falling in to place exactly how it should, and that all his plight and sorrow through the years had led him to these precious moments of bliss with someone whom he loved with all his heart and who loved him back. 

 It all came undone with the return of Antonio Costello. 

Costello had been in Viktor's life for many years, a shadow lurking in the back of his mind every day of his life since he entered the competitive skating arena. His presence was innocent at first, a genuine smile and a promise of financial help in boosting his skating career; later, more money, but  _can you do this for me, Vitya?_ and  _it was only one time, it won't happen again, he didn't mean it._ Viktor soared in the juniors, climbing the ranks and  _please, I don't want to, please don't make me._  A gold medal, a second gold medal,  _I can't help you if you don't help me, Viktor._ Three gold medals at fourteen, in line for a fourth if he plays his cards right, _put your hand right there, Viktor, you're doing so good.,_ the whole skating world wondering how this young man has become a legend at such a tender age. At sixteen, he debuts as a senior skater. At sixteen, he hears a story about a young athlete pressing charges on her skating coach, whom she accuses of sexually abusing her. He feels for her. His life goes on. 

Antonio Costello fades out of his life. The sponsorship ends, but Viktor has others. He forgets about the man, but something keeps him awake at night. An ever present awareness of something rotten in himself, something tainted and polluted. He keeps up his act of the suave heartbreaker and that seems to work. He shows his true self to only his beloved, but keeps this soiled part to himself, until he can't anymore. 

He sees Costello at an event soon after the Grand Prix. Eye contact from across the room and the memory of hands where they shouldn't be, and Viktor can't think or breathe. Yuuri leads him to their hotel room and Viktor is spilling everything, every unwanted touch and piece of clothing torn away, and the words "he raped me" are finally out of his mouth and it feels so freeing that  _someone_ knows, and he's so glad it's Yuuri. Yuuri wants to tell the authorities, but the thought terrifies Viktor to the core, so he drops it. 

He regretted this the most. 

Sitting in the hospital room next to Yuri, who lay on his side on the bed, holding the boy's hand and humming a Russian lullaby, he tried not to stew in his self hatred. It was Antonio Costello, Yuri had said. His sponsor. How had Viktor not payed attention? How had he not been hyper-vigilant and know exactly who the young boy was exposed to? Yuri was his responsibility and he had failed him. 

Yuri was silent, staring at the wall. It was unnerving, seeing the boy so... lifeless. Was that how Viktor had been? No, not to this extent. He hadn't been violently raped in the back of a car and dumped in the street to freeze to death. His had been a careful grooming. Costello had become bold, but he wouldn't get away with it this time. Viktor would make sure of it.

"That's a stupid song."

Yuri's monotone voice broke his thoughts. "Would you like me to stop?" He asked as gently as he could without sounding condescending. 

"No," Yuri said, "just sing something else."

Viktor forced a smile and changed the tune. At the very least, Yuri was still acting like himself. Though, Viktor had to wonder if this had been the first time, or if it had also been a slow process of grooming for Yuri as well. He didn't know which was worse.

The sexual assult kit was already done, but the doctors wanted to keep Yuri overnight to monitor his injuries. Because he was a minor, they allowed Viktor, his legal guardian, to stay with him. Somewhere during the night, Viktor made the call to Yuri's grandfather, which went precisely how he expected it to- heartbreaking and devastating to the elderly man, whom Viktor tried and failed to console. All the while, Viktor faced his crushing guilt and self hatred and resisted the almost overwhelming urge to cry and scream that it was his fault, that he could have done something but he didn't because he was a coward. It wasn't fair, not to Yuri or Viktor or any other kid Costello raped, and he was sure there were others. 

Viktor stayed away all through the night, his thoughts keeping him awake while his young companion slept fitfully. His exhaused, wounded body looked so frail, drowning in the small hospital bed and Viktor's chest tightened at the sight. Yuri had been delirious when Viktor arrived at the hospital, confused and disoriented, and poor Otabek didn't know what to do. Hospital staff refused to allow him in the room, so he was abandoned in the waiting area until Viktor and Yuuri came. Viktor was allowed to see him and be with him for the examination, but Yuuri stayed with Otabek. Late into the night, after Yuri had fallen asleep, Viktor went out to see his fiance.

"How is he?" Yuuri asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

Viktor rubbed his face. "His body will recover. I don't know about... the rest of him."

Yuuri inhaled sharply. "Poor Yuri..." He looked up and cupped Viktor's cheek in his hand. "You look exhaused, darling. You should get some sleep."

"I can't," Viktor said, "I have to be here for him"

Yuuri nodded and wrapped his arms around his fiance's shoulders, and Viktor set his forehead on Yuuri's shoulder. He was so  _tired_. 

Otabek stood a few feet away, unsure of what to do. When Viktor looked up, the two made eye contact, and he had a realization of just how  _young_ Otabek was. Just eighteen, hardly old enough to be called a man, and he had just found his friend bleeding and unconscious in the streets, held him until the ambulance got there. Gently, Viktor separated himself from Yuuri and addressed Otabek.

"How are you, Otabek?" he asked, touching his arm carefully. Otabek shrugged, seeming to shrink in on himself a little. 

"I dunno, just.. worried," was his answer. A man of few words, then.

Viktor smiled, doing his best to put forth that unwavering confidant front for the teenager who was undoubtedly suffering silently. "Perhaps you and Yuuri could go back to the hotel for the night, and see Yura tomorrow? He's asleep right now, and you should be too."

Otabek looked ready to protest, to insist that he stay the entirety of the night, but, due to shock or exhaustion or something else, he nodded and looked to the ground. Viktor didn't know him well, but he was sure, under different circumstances, this quiet boy would not be the type to give in so easily.

He kissed his love goodbye, then went back to Yuri's bedside to wait out the night. Sinking in his chair, he watched the boy sleep, and his mind would not rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments keep the words flowing and my heart beating.


End file.
